NationStates Jolt Archive

Who makes the worst puns in NS? I nominate ... myself. I've made grown men cry with my puns.

You have 86 posts. You don't even show up on the radar, n00b.

If that was meant to be a pun, you made me want to kill myself.

Curious Inquiry. Big punster, that one. :)

Whoever it was that said "Euro my words - as the Mark is no longer used", in one of the football threads. (Me no remember who).

Whoever it was that said "Euro my words - as the Mark is no longer used", in one of the football threads. (Me no remember who).
Intangelon, I think. Actually, I'm pretty sure. Thank God for useless knowledge. :rolleyes:

Whoever it was that said "Euro my words - as the Mark is no longer used", in one of the football threads. (Me no remember who).

Heh. That one's kinda punny.

Get it? Punny? I'm a one man riot.

Heh. That one's kinda punny.

Get it? Punny? I'm a one man riot.

You're worse.

Intangelon, I think. Actually, I'm pretty sure. Thank God for useless knowledge. :rolleyes:
Do you ever sleep?

Heh. That one's kinda punny.

Get it? Punny? I'm a one man riot.

:headbang:

Intangelon, I think. Actually, I'm pretty sure. Thank God for useless knowledge. :rolleyes:
I think it was Markreich and yeah :rolleyes: to useless knowledge. It's my only forté. :(

Do you ever sleep?

Sleep is for the weak and whory.

You're worse.
:headbang:

I think I got myself in the running now. My plan worked! :cool:

Heh. That one's kinda punny.

Get it? Punny? I'm a one man riot.
Well you're the only one laughing, but that's not quite the same thing.

Do you ever sleep?
Eventually.

I think it was Markreich and yeah :rolleyes: to useless knowledge. It's my only forté. :(
Damn, now I almost feel dared to go look whose useless knowledge is more useless, but there were so many of these threads around yesterday...


ETA: Hehehehehe (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=11296468&postcount=300). :D

Eventually.


Damn, now I almost feel dared to go look whose useless knowledge is more useless, but there were so many of these threads around yesterday...


ETA: Hehehehehe (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=11296468&postcount=300). :D
I'm slipping. :headbang: Hmmm... must be the beer. I hope

I think I got myself in the running now. My plan worked! :cool:
No you didn't, you punhead.

I'm slipping. :headbang: Hmmm... must be the beer. I hope
Nah, it's just the bratwurst. We always slightly poison the ones exported to the Netherlands. :p The symptoms will pass and all your useless knowledge will come back, promise. *pats*

Heh. That one's kinda punny.

Get it? Punny? I'm a one man riot.
Anymore crap like that and you will be pun-ished.

Anymore crap like that and you will be pun-ished.

or expunged.

If that was meant to be a pun, you made me want to kill myself.

apparently, you must not be a grown men...

[by his definition at least...]

but anyway, I don't think you could do this without doing some injustice to another equally pithy fellow, because eventually, they'd be at each others' necks and whatdayaknow! - it's the World Cup of Puns!

besides, I think puns are out of date anyway - Shakespeare did a good job with them, but they're centuries old so few people know them and fewer understand them.

In the end, NS is just one weird bunch of people who get together over a cup of coffee and chitchat over wires about anything - especially about the wires...or the beer...

ADD - ironically, i haven't any good puns here.

You have 86 posts. You don't even show up on the radar, n00b.


You spend too much time in this forum.

All those days youve wasted.

How proud you must be eh?

You spend too much time in this forum.

All those days youve wasted.

How proud you must be eh?


That is the worst Haiku ever

apparently, you must not be a grown men...

[by his definition at least...]

I have no clue where you got that from...

The pun is mightier than the bored.

Heh. That one's kinda punny.

Get it? Punny? I'm a one man riot.
http://www.casual-gamers.de/cg/images/postimages/emptyroom.jpg

Eventually.


Damn, now I almost feel dared to go look whose useless knowledge is more useless, but there were so many of these threads around yesterday...


ETA: Hehehehehe (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=11296468&postcount=300). :D
Sleep is an inadequate substitute for caffeine

Well now you know who is most useless. lol

I always thought 'Bad Pun' was a bit of an oxymoron.

Heh. That one's kinda punny.

Get it? Punny? I'm a one man riot.

stop with the pun ishment

I always thought 'Bad Pun' was a bit of an oxymoron.
Your logic is impunetrable.

I present my credentials:
http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=485715

I present my credentials:
http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=485715
You could be the winner. But it depuns.

stop with the pun ishment

http://www.vgcats.com/comics/?strip_id=171

Come on, it's all just pun and games.

This place is just full of pundits.

This place is just full of pundits.
People punisvely punder our punderous puns.

This place is just full of pundits.

I don't get it...

*brain explodes from all the bad puns*

what?? I never heard of you.

how can you nominate yourself f you dont even have 100 posts.

That is the worst Haiku ever
Hahahaha!!!
:D

This thread makes me punke.:(

I'm sure LG will have fun with this thread once he sees it. It seems to be right up his alley, and he has such a pun-derful way with words. :D

it's the World Cup of Puns!

I reckon france will win on Pun-alties

Well now you know who is most useless. lolYeah, could have phrased that a little better. :p

I reckon france will win on Pun-alties
Only if they have the energy to carry on regardless of the heat.

(Geddit... on re...)

Yeah, could have phrased that a little better. :p

She probably only had her phraser set on stun.

I reckon france will win on Pun-alties

Only if the French sticks to their game plan.

And [apples are] good for keeping doctors away. Like garlic and vampires. It's fun to watch doctors hiss at the sight of a Golden Delicious...


haha doctors choke on my cox, that's why ;)



oh yeah, i'm proud of that one :p

oh yeah, i'm proud of that one :p


I hope you didnt spill your Johnnie's appleseed in the waiting room!

Remember:
If puns are outlawed, only outlaws will have puns.

Two monocles were making love in front of a window and made spectacles of themselves.

I believe this thread qualifies as cruel and unusual punishment.

When a clock is hungry, it goes back four seconds.

I think this thread is starting to unravel.

Maybe it should be cut short?

Those who jump off a Paris bridge are in Seine.

A boiled egg in the morning is hard to beat.

people who go for a swim in egypt are in de-nile

Sleep is for the weak and whory.
What about the hoary?

an optician fell into a lense grinder and he making a spectacle of himself

My Father was a brick layer before he was sent to prison; to this day he still isn't a free mason.

A short fortuneteller escaped from prison. She was described by police as being a small medium at large.

In other news, a prison van collided with a cement truck, allowing some prisoners to escape. Police are on the look-out for a gang of hardened criminals.


(gotta love the Two Ronnies!)

There was one a dromedary whose fur was an amazingly close match in color to the desert sand, and he was almost impossible to see.
Some called him 'the invisible dromedary', but in reality he wasn't invisible; he was just really well camel-flaged.

Why did the parrot carry an umbrella?

He wanted to be polly-unsaturated.

The horror... the horror...

Why did the parrot carry an umbrella?

He wanted to be polly-unsaturated.
That almost made me spew chocolate at my laptop screen.

Quality, as Ctoan would say.

Did you hear about the new line of Elvis Presley-themed steakhouses?
They will be for people who love meat tender.

Did you hear about the new line of Elvis Presley-themed steakhouses?
They will be for people who love meat tender.

Awful. Bloody awful. :p

I present my credentials:
http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=485715
You could be the winner. But it depuns.

Just last Saturday I pun-ished a student with some choice ones. She said "I wish I am stoned", which I finally figured out meant she wished she could turn into stone so she wouldn't have to listen to my puns. I told her that we'd be rich if she'd wash my football kicks - seeing as they'd then be stone washed punts we could sell to Levi Strauss.

Too many of my "good" one's are bilingual:

I say "3-9" when someone does something nice (in Japanese, 3 is san and 9 is kyu, and "san-kyu" comes very close to thank youy w/ a Japanese accent).

When I turned 31, I punned about being "ice cream" (Baskin Robbins is called "31" here) and ham and cheese (pun on the J. pronunciation of sandwich and 31 - both are sanjuichi).

But my all time favorite is wonderfully sexist, "racist", and an awful (in the original sense) pun:
To understand it, one needs to know that the Japanese "counter" for flat things is mai. (Think "sheets".)

A: Gaikokuno onna wa oppai ikutsu arimasuka? (How many breasts does a western woman have?)
B: Futatsu (Two.)
A: Nihonno onna wa? (And a Japanese woman?)
B: Futatsu, deshou? (It's 2, isn't it?)
A: Chigau, ni-mai arimasu! (Nope, two sheets!)


My Father was a brick layer before he was sent to prison; to this day he still isn't a free mason.

Awful. Bloody awful. :p

try this one on for size..


We painted our floor with luminous paint. So now the florescent what it used to be.

Did you hear about the new line of Elvis Presley-themed steakhouses?
They will be for people who love meat tender.

In the words of that Turkish guy (what was his name anyway?) "I KISS YOU!"

And not really a pun, but fun anyhow:
Q: What's red and invisible?
A: No tomatoes!

try this one on for size..


We painted our floor with luminous paint. So now the florescent what it used to be.

Ouch. Terrible. :p

even more!!!!!!!!!

I got sent a package the other day, but when it arrived it was all damp.
I complained at the post office, and they said it must have had postage dew.

even more!!!!!!!!!

I got sent a package the other day, but when it arrived it was all damp.
I complained at the post office, and they said it must have had postage dew.

UGH! KILL ME!!!

UGH! KILL ME!!!

ONE MORE TIME!!!!!!!!!!

At breakfast time I am so hungry I could murder a bowl of cornflakes. Does that make me a cereal killer?

ONE MORE TIME!!!!!!!!!!

At breakfast time I am so hungry I could murder a bowl of cornflakes. Does that make me a cereal killer?

I so hate you... :p

even more!!!!!!!!!

I got sent a package the other day, but when it arrived it was all damp.
I complained at the post office, and they said it must have had postage dew.

Punsburg PA, is it? Isn't that where Al Capun's from?


UGH! KILL ME!!!

:::puts an Elvis "love meat tender" steak though Cluch's hart:::

Damn. Sorry about the stag, err... (Oops I must be drunk - but not too fast. Gotta keep up my figure.)

I so hate you... :p

wait wait got another....

Local Area Network in Australia: the LAN down under.

okay one more for now


News from the Bicycle Wheel Manufacturers Association is that they've appointed a new spokes-person.

ONE MORE TIME!!!!!!!!!!

At breakfast time I am so hungry I could murder a bowl of cornflakes. Does that make me a cereal killer?

Reminds me of Friedrich Nietzsche Über Corn Flake:

One day at the corn flake factory, an Über Corn Flake was born. It started out at the bottom of a huge pile. But it clawed and scratche and cscrambled and climbed and fought it's way to the top. When it reached the top, it announced "I AM THE ÜBER CORN FLAKE!"

A moment later, a scoop came along and picked up the Über Corn Flake and dumbed it in a box, where it was at the bottom of the heap again. But it clawed and scratche and cscrambled and climbed and fought it's way to the top. When it reached the top, it announced "I AM THE ÜBER CORN FLAKE!"

Shortly, the box was put in a crate for shipping, and turned upsidedown, so the Über Corn Flake was at the bottom of the heap again. But it clawed and scratche and cscrambled and climbed and fought it's way to the top. When it reached the top, it announced "I AM THE ÜBER CORN FLAKE!"

When the crate was loaded on the truck for the distribution center, the crate was packed so that the Über Corn Flake was at the bottom of the heap again. But it clawed and scratche and cscrambled and climbed and fought it's way to the top. When it reached the top, it announced "I AM THE ÜBER CORN FLAKE!"

When the crate was unpacked, it was stacked so the Über Corn Flake was at the bottom of the heap again. But it clawed and scratche and cscrambled and climbed and fought it's way to the top. When it reached the top, it announced "I AM THE ÜBER CORN FLAKE!"

(I'll stop here, but just in case you're wondering, no it doesn't end - it's a cereal...)

heres another classic....


Before he became a writer, William Shakespeare used to sell Swiss Cheese. He gave up the job because people kept complaining about his cheese. They would say to him "No holes, bard".

okay one more for now


News from the Bicycle Wheel Manufacturers Association is that they've appointed a new spokes-person.

We might want to stop now - otherwise he might get too much fiber in his plumbing and suffer from drain brannage.

Did you hear the one about the man who dreamed he was a muffler on a car, and then that he was part of the wheel?

He woke up exhausted and tired.

Did you hear the one about the man who dreamed he was a muffler on a car, and then that he was part of the wheel?

He woke up exhausted and tired.

You really hafta stop. :p

How about the lesser known cousin of the United Negro College Fund, the UMCF, which seeks to prevent fatal violence against silent actors. Their slogan's "A Mime is a terrible thing to waste."

Similarly, the slogan for the International Campaign to Un-Ban Landmines is " A mine is a terrible thing to waste."

You really hafta stop. :p


why? you wanted the worst....

why? you wanted the worst....

I didn't... :p

I have a new search engine. It's a motorized magnifying glass.

Then there was the unfortunate accident country singer Kenny Rodgers had while ridding his bicycle -b at least it inspired a song - "You picked a fine time to leave me loose wheel..."

Oh no! My karma has just run over my dogma!

Q: Whats black and white and red all over?

A: A Newspaper

this one made me gag


I once knew a bailiff who moonlighted as a bartender.
He served subpoena coladas

ok ok one more


A party was organised for a crowd of toad-stools. It was very crowded, but they were all happy....
There wasn't mush-room, but they didn't mind because they were all such fungi's.





(I'm sorry. That last one was in spore taste:D )

Q: Whats black and white and red all over?

A: A Newspaper

A: A zebra w/ diaper rash
A: A shy zebra
A: A commie panda
A: A bloody mime
A: A sunburnt penguin
A: OJ visiting his ex...

the only funny one out of your list is the panda

the only funny one out of your list is the panda


well this is supposed to be the worst puns

the only funny one out of your list is the panda

There's a pun-ch more where those came from (my tick and sistered chidhood.)

well this is supposed to be the worst puns

meh, the newspaper one is bad and it still gets a chuckle

A con-man called me on the telephone, but he didn't fool me - I could tell-he's-phone-y.

well this is supposed to be the worst puns

And Minoriteeburg is the only one who's really giving me any com-pun-tition.

And Minoriteeburg is the only one who's really giving me any com-pun-tition.


I was having coffee at the golf course when I saw a large amount of black sediment in the bottom of the cup. So I called the grounds keeper

or or or



Did you hear about the shepherd who drove his flock through town, and got a traffic ticket for making a ewe turn.

or or or



Did you hear about the shepherd who drove his flock through town, and got a traffic ticket for making a ewe turn.

MAKE IT STOP! :p

MAKE IT STOP! :p


only way to make it stop is to pun more. you should try.

only way to make it stop is to pun more. you should try.

Time to fall back and punt...

What did the papa buffalo say to the baby buffalo before he went to work?
"Bison".

What did the papa buffalo say to the baby buffalo before he went to work?
"Bison".

Thought that's what Deep Kimche's parents called him...

The old Texas rancher was getting ready to retire, and decided to split his land between his children. But he had so many kids, he decided to give the best parcels to the ones who performed well at their jobs. When he decided on the three boys who he wanted to give the bounus parcels of land to, he called them into his office and asked what they wanted to name the new ranch. After a short consultation they decided on focus - it's where the son's raise meets.

You know sometimes when I'm bored,I'll make spaghetti just to pasta time away.

Now hows that for using using my noodle.

And Minoriteeburg is the only one who's really giving me any com-pun-tition.
Don't feel any com-pun-ction to stop. I'm loving it.

Don't feel any com-pun-ction to stop. I'm loving it.


I was laughing so hard from that last one my rib pun-ctured my lung.

I was laughing so hard from that last one my rib pun-ctured my lung.
May I recommend an accu-pun-cture treatment?

May I recommend an accu-pun-cture treatment?


i tried to work at an accupuncturist once, but i was fired for not being pun-ctual

i tried to work at an accupuncturist once, but i was fired for not being pun-ctual
I know it's a pun-ishable offense, but come on!

I know it's a pun-ishable offense, but come on!


so now i have dreams of becoming a political pun-dit

so now i have dreams of becoming a political pun-dit
so that you can you break the law with im-pun-ity or to put gas in your pun-y car: a Pony?

I shall now present to you two of the longest jokes I have ever read, both of which end in puns. They're not mine, but neither should anyone declare them as their own. Mainly because they were both built by robots. In the future. Yes.

Anyway, it shall be in 2 parts, because one of the jokes is fucking huge. I mean, 10,000+ words huge. Um. Ta daa?

In Plymouth there was a large aquarium, it was the pride of the town and had a worldwide reputation. Despite the decline in the fishing industry the tourism from the aquarium had bolstered the economy and prevented the town from slipping into the local recession that had struck many places along the same stretch of coast.

There were long halls full of crabs and eels and creatures from the deep of every description. All these long halls converged to a large central tank that contained the centre piece of the entire aquarium. Living within this vast tank were some of the oldest and rarest creatures housed anywhere on earth. There was a dolphin with 3 dorsel fins, a large walrus with tusks in the shape of the last 2 popes, a thin frail porpoise that was said to be 250 years old, and a giant squid that was every colour of the rainbow.

It was just last year that a startling thought came to the mayor of the town. He had been on his annual tour to show his appreciation for the aquarium when it dawned on him that there was little or no security overseeing the towns aquatic asset.

During a hurried conference with the directors overseeing the facility he demanded that more stringent measures be put in place to safeguard this hub of the tourist industry.

The scheme was an all round winner as not only did it provide the much needed security, it also gave the directors a chance to get themselves in the papers yet again. The mayor turned the whole thing into a political publicity coup by ensuring that five local fisherman who had lost their jobs through the fishing decline all became the new security force at the aquarium.

And so it was that Bob, Jim, Geoff, Bernard, and Sid all regularly patrolled the empty halls of the aquarium to ensure that no intruders ever made their way in to steal, disturb or damage the livestock.

A few weeks into the scheme, the tourists began to complain of small bags and wrappers on the floor and left on the edges of the tanks each day. Fearing any bad publicity, the directors quickly hauled in all five security guards and asked them to be extra vigilant in ensuring no people left any litter behind. The guards said that they would do their best.

The problem persisted and so the directors secretly installed security cameras in order to track down the culprits. The first morning that the tapes were viewed quickly established that it was the guards themselves that were the secret litter bugs.

In a heated meeting, the directors banned all food being brought onto the premises by any staff and the guards had a weeks wages docked from their pay.

Sleeping through the hot summer days and going hungry through the long nights soon began to became a drag. One particularly long night all five guards met near the central tank - hungry, tired, and exhausted.

"I need food," whimpered Bob.
"We could always eat the fish," suggested Sidney.
"Don't be stupid," said Geoff.
"Lets all stay calm," said Bernard.
"I've been thinking," said Jim, thoughtfully.
"Haven't we all," responded Geoff, "there's nothing else to do round here but think. I'm all thunk out."
"No, Look," continued Jim. "Here we all are famished, and there's a snack machine just over there."
"Oh, security guards vandalising the snack machine, that'll go down a treat," said Bob, sarcastically.
Jim sighed. "No one need ever know."
"And what about the camera pointing straight at it?" asked Bernard.
"Aha, but there's no camera pointing at the back of it!" announced Jim.
Sidney looked on in despair. "Do you not think that has something to do with the fact that you would have to walk across the water of the main tank in order to reach the back of it? You idiot!"
"And what would we do with the wrappers?" Said Bob nervously. "There's talk of them searching us all soon, every morning!"
Jim smiled a long cunning smile. "As I said, I've been thinking. We can drop the wrappers into the tank itself, no one will ever see them."
Geoff was only half convinced. "There's still the matter of getting across the water without getting completely soaked."
"I've thought of that, watch this..." Jim walked over to the tank and splashed the water while listening.

As the others all watched in amazement, the prize animals of the aquarium all swam to the surface and made their way over to the crowd of men. Without even blinking, Jim removed his shoes and socks, rolled up his trousers, and then climbed aboard the walrus with the papal tusks. A difficult journey across the tank then ensued, followed by the even more difficult task of unscrewing the back of a snacks machine whilst astride a large walrus.

The pair were soon back safely across and the walrus was rewarded with a Crunchie, which it seem to enjoy. The men all enjoyed a feast of snacks and fizzy drinks and slipped the rubbish into the tank to sink out of view.

The next night, Bob said he would perform the ride as it looked like fun. He rippled his hand in the water and all the animals swam over with a look of pining on their faces. Bob chose the triple-finned dolphin and made his way to the machine. He selected a range of snacks for his colleagues and the dolphin chose a Twix.

The next night was more of the same with Sidney opting to perform the ride and the multi-coloured giant squid choosing a Snickers ice cream.

The following night, Bernard decided to give it a go and took the orders off all his colleagues. He was about to sit on the small frail porpoise when Geoff grabbed him back.

"Don't sit on that ancient thing" snapped Geoff.
"What?" asked Bernard.
"He's right" said Jim. "That creature is over 250 years old and very weak, if we were to kill it by riding it, that would ruin the little scheme we have going here. I say we never use this creature, the others are all strong enough anyway."
So Bernard rode across on the walrus and everyone was happy.

Several months later, after a set of extraordinary circumstances, David Attenborough was sitting in the offices of the aquarium directors. The directors apologised for disturbing his busy schedule and explained that they had discovered something amazing and he was the only man on earth that might be able to explain the event.

They explained at how concerned they had become that the level of outgoing snacks had risen sharply and yet the financial takings from the machines had dropped significantly. They had also noticed that the animals in the central tank had become increasingly tired and their appetites had dropped.

They had not connected the two at all at first. However, when they reviewed the footage of the security cameras, they found that nothing out of the ordinary seemed to be happening to any of the machines. Then one of the directors suddenly noticed that during the night something funny seemed to happen near the machine by the central tank. Although nothing seemed to happen to the machine itself, there were signs of large ripples in the water nearby just in view at the corner of the screen. A quick check of that stock record showed that this was the machine that had lost the most stock out of them all.

"And this is why we have called you in Mr. Attenborough, the only explanation we have is that the animals in the central tank are actually stealing snacks from the rear of the snacks machine. We even found that they have hidden the rubbish in the bottom of their tank."

David Attenborough agreed that it was all very exciting and that he would love to help out in any way he could. The directors said they were planning to open up 24 hours so that people could visit at night and watch the amazing creatures perform their daring raids.

Mr. Attenborough wasn't so sure. Too much human attention straight away could frighten the animals and make them stop their nightly snack swims. He suggested that the best idea would be to set up a hidden BBC film crew to film the animals at work. It could be broadcast live across the world and so give the directors the publicity they sought. if the animals slowly got comfortable witha human presence then night opening could follow later.

The directors thought this was brilliant. They also decided not to tell the security guards as the idiots would probably get a bit camera hungry and try and hog the limelight. It was thought best to just to leave the guards to wander round as normal, oblivious to the global spotlight suddenly focused on the central tank.

And so it was that on the fateful night that over a billion people worldwide tuned in to stare at the grainy night vision camera shots as the world waited to witness the moment the animals would display their dazzling intelligence tricks in order to find food.

The directors all sat round a TV with the champagne nearby, all ready to toast the 8th wonder of the world right here in their aquarium in Plymouth.

Words like shock, disgust, and outrage don't nearly go far enough in describing what the directors felt when they witnessed the hulking fat form of Bernard slump himself onto the rarest dolphin in existence and proceed to waggle the creature across the water before performing a blatant act of vandalism mixed with insider company theft.

David Attenborough was deeply disappointed and annoyed at someone of his age and standing being made to hide in the cold darkness for nothing. The world watching at home found the whole thing to be very funny, but the amusement would only last for one night and it certainly wasn't going to pull the crowds in.

The very next morning, all five guards were summoned to hear of their instant dismissal and to explain/plead why the company shouldn't have them all locked up on criminal charges.

The guards selected Jim as their spokesman, as he was the most clever, and besides which, he'd got them all into this mess in the first place. The directors took several minutes to calm themselves down before oen of them spoke.

"How? just How? how... How could you?" he finally exploded.
"We're all very sorry. Really, we are." Jim hesitantly replied.
"Sorry? you humiliate this company in front of the entire world and you say you're sorry!"
"Yes. We cannot say how sorry we are."
"We hired you to keep the place nice and you just littered it!"
"We're sorry about that."
"So we take away your messy snacks and you go behind our backs..."
"We're sorry about that as well."
"...And, without a care, you steal from this company..."
"And we're very sorry about that."
"And you selfishly drop your grubby litter into the main tank of the aquarium..."
"Ah, yes, we're sorry about that, too."
"...And you intentionally put the animals at risk. Yes! You deliberately gambled the well being of all five of our rarest specimens, all for your own greed. We could have lost all five of our prize collection through your own very stupid and very deliberate actions!"
"Actually sir, that isn't quite true..."
"What?"
"We didn't do it on porpoise."
I can hear your screams of laughter, but I press on with the latter regardless. To post 2!

This joke has to be split halfway through, so huge it is...

So, there's a man crawling through the desert.

He'd decided to try his SUV in a little bit of cross-country travel, had great fun zooming over the badlands and through the sand, got lost, hit a big rock, and then he couldn't get it started again. There were no cell
phone towers anywhere near, so his cell phone was useless. He had no family, his parents had died a few years before in an auto accident, and his few
friends had no idea he was out here.

He stayed with the car for a day or so, but his one bottle of water ran out
and he was getting thirsty. He thought maybe he knew the direction back, now
that he'd paid attention to the sun and thought he'd figured out which way
was north, so he decided to start walking. He figured he only had to go
about 30 miles or so and he'd be back to the small town he'd gotten gas in
last.

He thinks about walking at night to avoid the heat and sun, but based upon
how dark it actually was the night before, and given that he has no
flashlight, he's afraid that he'll break a leg or step on a rattlesnake. So,
he puts on some sun block, puts the rest in his pocket for reapplication
later, brings an umbrella he'd had in the back of the SUV with him to give
him a little shade, pours the windshield wiper fluid into his water bottle
in case he gets that desperate, brings his pocket knife in case he finds a
cactus that looks like it might have water in it, and heads out in the
direction he thinks is right.

He walks for the entire day. By the end of the day he's really thirsty. He's
been sweating all day, and his lips are starting to crack. He's reapplied
the sunblock twice, and tried to stay under the umbrella, but he still feels
sunburned. The windshield wiper fluid sloshing in the bottle in his pocket
is really getting tempting now. He knows that it's mainly water and some
ethanol and coloring, but he also knows that they add some kind of poison to
it to keep people from drinking it. He wonders what the poison is, and
whether the poison would be worse than dying of thirst.

He pushes on, trying to get to that small town before dark.

By the end of the day he starts getting worried. He figures he's been
walking at least 3 miles an hour, according to his watch for over 10 hours.
That means that if his estimate was right that he should be close to the
town. But he doesn't recognize any of this. He had to cross a dry creek bed
a mile or two back, and he doesn't remember coming through it in the SUV. He
figures that maybe he got his direction off just a little and that the dry
creek bed was just off to one side of his path. He tells himself that he's
close, and that after dark he'll start seeing the town lights over one of
these hills, and that'll be all he needs.

As it gets dim enough that he starts stumbling over small rocks and things,
he finds a spot and sits down to wait for full dark and the town lights.

Full dark comes before he knows it. He must have dozed off. He stands back
up and turns all the way around. He sees nothing but stars.

He wakes up the next morning feeling absolutely lousy. His eyes are gummy
and his mouth and nose feel like they're full of sand. He so thirsty that he
can't even swallow. He barely got any sleep because it was so cold. He'd
forgotten how cold it got at night in the desert and hadn't noticed it the
night before because he'd been in his car.

He knows the Rule of Threes - three minutes without air, three days without
water, three weeks without food - then you die. Some people can make it a
little longer, in the best situations. But the desert heat and having to
walk and sweat isn't the best situation to be without water. He figures,
unless he finds water, this is his last day.

He rinses his mouth out with a little of the windshield wiper fluid. He
waits a while after spitting that little bit out, to see if his mouth goes
numb, or he feels dizzy or something. Has his mouth gone numb? Is it just in
his mind? He's not sure. He'll go a little farther, and if he still doesn't
find water, he'll try drinking some of the fluid.

Then he has to face his next, harder question - which way does he go from
here? Does he keep walking the same way he was yesterday (assuming that he
still knows which way that is), or does he try a new direction? He has no
idea what to do.

Looking at the hills and dunes around him, he thinks he knows the direction
he was heading before. Just going by a feeling, he points himself somewhat
to the left of that, and starts walking.

As he walks, the day starts heating up. The desert, too cold just a couple
of hours before, soon becomes an oven again. He sweats a little at first,
and then stops. He starts getting worried at that - when you stop sweating
he knows that means you're in trouble - usually right before heat stroke.

He decides that it's time to try the windshield wiper fluid. He can't wait
any longer - if he passes out, he's dead. He stops in the shade of a large
rock, takes the bottle out, opens it, and takes a mouthful. He slowly
swallows it, making it last as long as he can. It feels so good in his dry
and cracked throat that he doesn't even care about the nasty taste. He takes
another mouthful, and makes it last too. Slowly, he drinks half the bottle.
He figures that since he's drinking it, he might as well drink enough to
make some difference and keep himself from passing out.

He's quit worrying about the denaturing of the wiper fluid. If it kills him,
it kills him - if he didn't drink it, he'd die anyway. Besides, he's pretty
sure that whatever substance they denature the fluid with is just designed
to make you sick - their way of keeping winos from buying cheap wiper fluid
for the ethanol content. He can handle throwing up, if it comes to that.

He walks. He walks in the hot, dry, windless desert. Sand, rocks, hills,
dunes, the occasional scrawny cactus or dried bush. No sign of water.
Sometimes he'll see a little movement to one side or the other, but whatever
moved is usually gone before he can focus his eyes on it. Probably birds,
lizards, or mice. Maybe snakes, though they usually move more at night. He's
careful to stay away from the movements.

After a while, he begins to stagger. He's not sure if it's fatigue, heat
stroke finally catching him, or maybe he was wrong and the denaturing of the
wiper fluid was worse than he thought. He tries to steady himself, and keep
going.

After more walking, he comes to a large stretch of sand. This is good! He
knows he passed over a stretch of sand in the SUV - he remembers doing
donuts in it. Or at least he thinks he remembers it - he's getting woozy
enough and tired enough that he's not sure what he remembers any more or if
he's hallucinating. But he thinks he remembers it. So he heads off into it,
trying to get to the other side, hoping that it gets him closer to the town.

He was heading for a town, wasn't he? He thinks he was. He isn't sure any
more. He's not even sure how long he's been walking any more. Is it still
morning? Or has it moved into afternoon and the sun is going down again? It
must be afternoon - it seems like it's been too long since he started out.

He walks through the sand.

After a while, he comes to a big dune in the sand. This is bad. He doesn't
remember any dunes when driving over the sand in his SUV. Or at least he
doesn't think he remembers any. This is bad.

But, he has no other direction to go. Too late to turn back now. He figures
that he'll get to the top of the dune and see if he can see anything from
there that helps him find the town. He keeps going up the dune.

Halfway up, he slips in the bad footing of the sand for the second or third
time, and falls to his knees. He doesn't feel like getting back up - he'll
just fall down again. So, he keeps going up the dune on his hand and knees.

While crawling, if his throat weren't so dry, he'd laugh. He's finally
gotten to the hackneyed image of a man lost in the desert - crawling through
the sand on his hands and knees. If would be the perfect image, he imagines,
if only his clothes were more ragged. The people crawling through the desert
in the cartoons always had ragged clothes. But his have lasted without any
rips so far. Somebody will probably find his dessicated corpse half buried
in the sand years from now, and his clothes will still be in fine shape -
shake the sand out, and a good wash, and they'd be wearable again. He wishes
his throat were wet enough to laugh. He coughs a little instead, and it
hurts.

He finally makes it to the top of the sand dune. Now that he's at the top,
he struggles a little, but manages to stand up and look around. All he sees
is sand. Sand, and more sand. Behind him, about a mile away, he thinks he
sees the rocky ground he left to head into this sand. Ahead of him, more
dunes, more sand. This isn't where he drove his SUV. This is Hell. Or close
enough.

Again, he doesn't know what to do. He decides to drink the rest of the wiper
fluid while figuring it out. He takes out the bottle, and is removing the
cap, when he glances to the side and sees something. Something in the sand.
At the bottom of the dune, off to the side, he sees something strange. It's
a flat area, in the sand. He stops taking the cap of the bottle off, and
tries to look closer. The area seems to be circular. And it's dark - darker
than the sand. And, there seems to be something in the middle of it, but he
can't tell what it is. He looks as hard as he can, and still can tell from
here. He's going to have to go down there and look.

He puts the bottle back in his pocket, and starts to stumble down the dune.
After a few steps, he realizes that he's in trouble - he's not going to be
able to keep his balance. After a couple of more sliding, tottering steps,
he falls and starts to roll down the dune. The sand it so hot when his body
hits it that for a minute he thinks he's caught fire on the way down - like
a movie car wreck flashing into flames as it goes over the cliff, before it
ever even hits the ground. He closes his eyes and mouth, covers his face
with his hands, and waits to stop rolling.

He stops, at the bottom of the dune. After a minute or two, he finds enough
energy to try to sit up and get the sand out of his face and clothes. When
he clears his eyes enough, he looks around to make sure that the dark spot
in the sand it still there and he hadn't just imagined it.

So, seeing the large, flat, dark spot on the sand is still there, he begins
to crawl towards it. He'd get up and walk towards it, but he doesn't seem to
have the energy to get up and walk right now. He must be in the final stages
of dehydration he figures, as he crawls. If this place in the sand doesn't
have water, he'll likely never make it anywhere else. This is his last
chance.

He gets closer and closer, but still can't see what's in the middle of the
dark area. His eyes won't quite focus any more for some reason. And lifting
his head up to look takes so much effort that he gives up trying. He just
keeps crawling.

Finally, he reaches the area he'd seen from the dune. It takes him a minute
of crawling on it before he realizes that he's no longer on sand - he's now
crawling on some kind of dark stone. Stone with some kind of marking on it -
a pattern cut into the stone. He's too tired to stand up and try to see what
the pattern is - so he just keeps crawling. He crawls towards the center,
where his blurry eyes still see something in the middle of the dark stone
area.

His mind, detached in a strange way, notes that either his hands and knees
are so burnt by the sand that they no longer feel pain, or that this dark
stone, in the middle of a burning desert with a pounding, punishing sun
overhead, doesn't seem to be hot. It almost feels cool. He considers lying
down on the nice cool surface.

Cool, dark stone. Not a good sign. He must be hallucinating this. He's
probably in the middle of a patch of sand, already lying face down and
dying, and just imagining this whole thing. A desert mirage. Soon the
beautiful women carrying pitchers of water will come up and start giving him
a drink. Then he'll know he's gone.

He decides against laying down on the cool stone. If he's going to die here
in the middle of this hallucination, he at least wants to see what's in the
center before he goes. He keeps crawling.

It's the third time that he hears the voice before he realizes what he's
hearing. He would swear that someone just said, "Greetings, traveler. You do
not look well. Do you hear me?"

He stops crawling. He tries to look up from where he is on his hands and
knees, but it's too much effort to lift his head. So he tries something
different - he leans back and tries to sit up on the stone. After a few
seconds, he catches his balance, avoids falling on his face, sits up, and
tries to focus his eyes. Blurry. He rubs his eyes with the back of his hands
and tries again. Better this time.

Yep. He can see. He's sitting in the middle of a large, flat, dark expanse
of stone. Directly next to him, about three feet away, is a white post or
pole about two inches in diameter and sticking up about four or five feet
out of the stone, at an angle.

And wrapped around this white rod, tail with rattle on it hovering and
seeming to be ready to start rattling, is what must be a fifteen foot long
desert diamondback rattlesnake, looking directly at him.

He stares at the snake in shock. He doesn't have the energy to get up and
run away. He doesn't even have the energy to crawl away. This is it, his
final resting place. No matter what happens, he's not going to be able to
move from this spot.

Well, at least dying of a bite from this monster should be quicker than
dying of thirst. He'll face his end like a man. He struggles to sit up a
little straighter. The snake keeps watching him. He lifts one hand and waves
it in the snake's direction, feebly. The snake watches the hand for a
moment, then goes back to watching the man, looking into his eyes.

Hmmm. Maybe the snake had no interest in biting him? It hadn't rattled yet -
that was a good sign. Maybe he wasn't going to die of snake bite after all.

He then remembers that he'd looked up when he'd reached the center here
because he thought he'd heard a voice. He was still very woozy - he was
likely to pass out soon, the sun still beat down on him even though he was
now on cool stone. He still didn't have anything to drink. But maybe he had
actually heard a voice. This stone didn't look natural. Nor did that white
post sticking up out of the stone. Someone had to have built this. Maybe
they were still nearby. Maybe that was who talked to him. Maybe this snake
was even their pet, and that's why it wasn't biting.

He tries to clear his throat to say, "Hello," but his throat is too dry. All
that comes out is a coughing or wheezing sound. There is no way he's going
to be able to talk without something to drink. He feels his pocket, and the
bottle with the wiper fluid is still there. He shakily pulls the bottle out,
almost losing his balance and falling on his back in the process. This isn't
good. He doesn't have much time left, by his reckoning, before he passes
out.

He gets the lid off of the bottle, manages to get the bottle to his lips,
and pours some of the fluid into his mouth. He sloshes it around, and then
swallows it. He coughs a little. His throat feels better. Maybe he can talk
now.

He tries again. Ignoring the snake, he turns to look around him, hoping to
spot the owner of this place, and croaks out, "Hello? Is there anyone here?"

He hears, from his side, "Greetings. What is it that you want?"

He turns his head, back towards the snake. That's where the sound had seemed
to come from. The only thing he can think of is that there must be a
speaker, hidden under the snake, or maybe built into that post. He decides
to try asking for help.

"Please," he croaks again, suddenly feeling dizzy, "I'd love to not be
thirsty any more. I've been a long time without water. Can you help me?"

Looking in the direction of the snake, hoping to see where the voice was
coming from this time, he is shocked to see the snake rear back, open its
mouth, and speak. He hears it say, as the dizziness overtakes him and he
falls forward, face first on the stone, "Very well. Coming up."

A piercing pain shoots through his shoulder. Suddenly he is awake. He sits
up and grabs his shoulder, wincing at the throbbing pain. He's momentarily
disoriented as he looks around, and then he remembers - the crawl across the
sand, the dark area of stone, the snake. He sees the snake, still wrapped
around the tilted white post, still looking at him.

He reaches up and feels his shoulder, where it hurts. It feels slightly wet.
He pulls his fingers away and looks at them - blood. He feels his shoulder
again - his shirt has what feels like two holes in it - two puncture holes -
they match up with the two aching spots of pain on his shoulder. He had been
bitten. By the snake.

"It'll feel better in a minute." He looks up - it's the snake talking. He
hadn't dreamed it. Suddenly he notices - he's not dizzy any more. And more
importantly, he's not thirsty any more - at all!

"Have I died? Is this the afterlife? Why are you biting me in the
afterlife?"

"Sorry about that, but I had to bite you," says the snake. "That's the way I
work. It all comes through the bite. Think of it as natural medicine."

"You bit me to help me? Why aren't I thirsty any more? Did you give me a
drink before you bit me? How did I drink enough while unconscious to not be
thirsty any more? I haven't had a drink for over two days. Well, except for
the windshield wiper fluid... hold it, how in the world does a snake talk?
Are you real? Are you some sort of Disney animation?"

"No," says the snake, "I'm real. As real as you or anyone is, anyway. I
didn't give you a drink. I bit you. That's how it works - it's what I do. I
bite. I don't have hands to give you a drink, even if I had water just
sitting around here."

The man sat stunned for a minute. Here he was, sitting in the middle of the
desert on some strange stone that should be hot but wasn't, talking to a
snake that could talk back and had just bitten him. And he felt better. Not
great - he was still starving and exhausted, but much better - he was no
longer thirsty. He had started to sweat again, but only slightly. He felt
hot, in this sun, but it was starting to get lower in the sky, and the cool
stone beneath him was a relief he could notice now that he was no longer
dying of thirst.

"I might suggest that we take care of that methanol you now have in your
system with the next request," continued the snake. "I can guess why you
drank it, but I'm not sure how much you drank, or how much methanol was left
in the wiper fluid. That stuff is nasty. It'll make you go blind in a day or
two, if you drank enough of it."

"Ummm, n-next request?" said the man. He put his hand back on his hurting
shoulder and backed away from the snake a little.

"That's the way it works. If you like, that is," explained the snake. "You
get three requests. Call them wishes, if you wish." The snake grinned at his
own joke, and the man drew back a little further from the show of fangs.

"But there are rules," the snake continued. "The first request is free. The
second requires an agreement of secrecy. The third requires the binding of
responsibility." The snake looks at the man seriously.

"By the way," the snake says suddenly, "my name is Nathan. Old Nathan,
Samuel used to call me. He gave me the name. Before that, most of the Bound
used to just call me 'Snake'. But that got old, and Samuel wouldn't stand
for it. He said that anything that could talk needed a name. He was big into
names. You can call me Nate, if you wish." Again, the snake grinned. "Sorry
if I don't offer to shake, but I think you can understand - my shake sounds
somewhat threatening." The snake give his rattle a little shake.

"Umm, my name is Jack," said the man, trying to absorb all of this. "Jack
Samson.

"Can I ask you a question?" Jack says suddenly. "What happened to the
poison...umm, in your bite. Why aren't I dying now? How did you do that?
What do you mean by that's how you work?"

"That's more than one question," grins Nate. "But I'll still try to answer
all of them. First, yes, you can ask me a question." The snake's grin gets
wider. "Second, the poison is in you. It changed you. You now no longer need
to drink. That's what you asked for. Or, well, technically, you asked to not
be thirsty any more - but 'any more' is such a vague term. I decided to make
it permanent - now, as long as you live, you shouldn't need to drink much at
all. Your body will conserve water very efficiently. You should be able to
get enough just from the food you eat - much like a creature of the desert.
You've been changed.

"For the third question," Nate continues, "you are still dying. Besides the
effects of that methanol in your system, you're a man - and men are mortal.
In your current state, I give you no more than about another 50 years.
Assuming you get out of this desert, alive, that is." Nate seemed vastly
amused at his own humor, and continued his wide grin.

"As for the fourth question," Nate said, looking more serious as far as Jack
could tell, as Jack was just now working on his ability to read
talking-snake emotions from snake facial features, "first you have to agree
to make a second request and become bound by the secrecy, or I can't tell
you."

"Wait," joked Jack, "isn't this where you say you could tell me, but you'd
have to kill me?"

"I thought that was implied." Nate continued to look serious.

"Ummm...yeah." Jack leaned back a little as he remembered again that he was
talking to a fifteen foot poisonous reptile with a reputation for having a
nasty temper. "So, what is this 'Bound by Secrecy' stuff, and can you really
stop the effects of the methanol?" Jack thought for a second. "And, what do
you mean methanol, anyway? I thought these days they use ethanol in wiper
fluid, and just denature it?"

"They may, I don't really know," said Nate. "I haven't gotten out in a
while. Maybe they do. All I know is that I smell methanol on your breath and
on that bottle in your pocket. And the blue color of the liquid when you
pulled it out to drink some let me guess that it was wiper fluid. I assume
that they still color wiper fluid blue?"

"Yeah, they do," said Jack.

"I figured," replied Nate. "As for being bound by secrecy - with the
fulfillment of your next request, you will be bound to say nothing about me,
this place, or any of the information I will tell you after that, when you
decide to go back out to your kind. You won't be allowed to talk about me,
write about me, use sign language, charades, or even act in a way that will
lead someone to guess correctly about me. You'll be bound to secrecy. Of
course, I'll also ask you to promise not to give me away, and as I'm
guessing that you're a man of your word, you'll never test the binding
anyway, so you won't notice." Nate said the last part with utter confidence.

Jack, who had always prided himself on being a man of his word, felt a
little nervous at this. "Ummm, hey, Nate, who are you? How did you know
that? Are you, umm, omniscient, or something?"

Well, Jack," said Nate sadly, "I can't tell you that, unless you make the
second request." Nate looked away for a minute, then looked back.

"Umm, well, ok," said Jack, "what is this about a second request? What can I
ask for? Are you allowed to tell me that?"

"Sure!" said Nate, brightening. "You're allowed to ask for changes. Changes
to yourself. They're like wishes, but they can only affect you. Oh, and
before you ask, I can't give you immortality. Or omniscience. Or
omnipresence, for that matter. Though I might be able to make you gaseous
and yet remain alive, and then you could spread through the atmosphere and
sort of be omnipresent. But what good would that be - you still wouldn't be
omniscient and thus still could only focus on one thing at a time. Not very
useful, at least in my opinion." Nate stopped when he realized that Jack was
staring at him.

"Well, anyway," continued Nate, "I'd probably suggest giving you permanent
good health. It would negate the methanol now in your system, you'd be
immune to most poisons and diseases, and you'd tend to live a very long
time, barring accident, of course. And you'll even have a tendency to
recover from accidents well. It always seemed like a good choice for a
request to me."

"Cure the methanol poisoning, huh?" said Jack. "And keep me healthy for a
long time? Hmmm. It doesn't sound bad at that. And it has to be a request
about a change to me? I can't ask to be rich, right? Because that's not
really a change to me?"

"Right," nodded Nate.

"Could I ask to be a genius and permanently healthy?" Jack asked, hopefully.

"That takes two requests, Jack."

"Yeah, I figured so," said Jack. "But I could ask to be a genius? I could
become the smartest scientist in the world? Or the best athlete?"

"Well, I could make you very smart," admitted Nate, "but that wouldn't
necessarily make you the best scientist in the world. Or, I could make you
very athletic, but it wouldn't necessarily make you the best athlete either.
You've heard the saying that 99% of genius is hard work? Well, there's some
truth to that. I can give you the talent, but I can't make you work hard. It
all depends on what you decide to do with it."

"Hmmm," said Jack. "Ok, I think I understand. And I get a third request,
after this one?"

"Maybe," said Nate, "it depends on what you decide then. There are more
rules for the third request that I can only tell you about after the second
request. You know how it goes." Nate looked like he'd shrug, if he had
shoulders.

"Ok, well, since I'd rather not be blind in a day or two, and permanent
health doesn't sound bad, then consider that my second request. Officially.
Do I need to sign in blood or something?"

"No," said Nate. "Just hold out your hand. Or heel." Nate grinned. "Or
whatever part you want me to bite. I have to bite you again. Like I said,
that's how it works - the poison, you know," Nate said apologetically.

Jack winced a little and felt his shoulder, where the last bite was. Hey, it
didn't hurt any more. Just like Nate had said. That made Jack feel better
about the biting business. But still, standing still while a fifteen foot
snake sunk it's fangs into you. Jack stood up. Ignoring how good it felt to
be able to stand again, and the hunger starting to gnaw at his stomach, Jack
tried to decide where he wanted to get bitten. Despite knowing that it
wouldn't hurt for long, Jack knew that this wasn't going to be easy.

"Hey, Jack," Nate suddenly said, looking past Jack towards the dunes behind
him, "is that someone else coming up over there?"

Jack spun around and looked. Who else could be out here in the middle of
nowhere? And did they bring food?

Wait a minute, there was nobody over there. What was Nate...

Jack let out a bellow as he felt two fangs sink into his rear end, through
his jeans...

Jack sat down carefully, favoring his more tender buttock. "I would have
decided, eventually, Nate. I was just thinking about it. You didn't have to
hoodwink me like that."

"I've been doing this a long time, Jack," said Nate, confidently. "You
humans have a hard time sitting still and letting a snake bite you -
especially one my size. And besides, admit it - it's only been a couple of
minutes and it already doesn't hurt any more, does it? That's because of the
health benefit with this one. I told you that you'd heal quickly now."

"Yeah, well, still," said Jack, "it's the principle of the thing. And nobody
likes being bitten in the butt! Couldn't you have gotten my calf or
something instead?"

"More meat in the typical human butt," replied Nate. "And less chance you
accidentally kick me or move at the last second."

"Yeah, right. So, tell me all of these wonderful secrets that I now qualify
to hear," answered Jack.

"Ok," said Nate. "Do you want to ask questions first, or do you want me to
just start talking?"

"Just talk," said Jack. "I'll sit here and try to not think about food."

"We could go try to rustle up some food for you first, if you like,"
answered Nate.

"Hey! You didn't tell me you had food around here, Nate!" Jack jumped up.
"What do we have? Am I in walking distance to town? Or can you magically
whip up food along with your other powers?" Jack was almost shouting with
excitement. His stomach had been growling for hours.

"I was thinking more like I could flush something out of its hole and bite
it for you, and you could skin it and eat it. Assuming you have a knife,
that is," replied Nate, with the grin that Jack was starting to get used to.

"Ugh," said Jack, sitting back down. "I think I'll pass. I can last a little
longer before I get desperate enough to eat desert rat, or whatever else it
is you find out here. And there's nothing to burn - I'd have to eat it raw.
No thanks. Just talk."

"Ok," replied Nate, still grinning. "But I'd better hurry, before you start
looking at me as food.

Nate reared back a little, looked around for a second, and then continued.
"You, Jack, are sitting in the middle of the Garden of Eden."

Jack looked around at the sand and dunes and then looked back at Nate
sceptically.

"Well, that's the best I can figure it, anyway, Jack," said Nate. "Stand up
and look at the symbol on the rock here." Nate gestured around the dark
stone they were both sitting on with his nose.

Jack stood up and looked. Carved into the stone in a bas-relief was a
representation of a large tree. The angled-pole that Nate was wrapped around
was coming out of the trunk of the tree, right below where the main branches
left the truck to reach out across the stone. It was very well done - it
looked more like a tree had been reduced to almost two dimensions and
embedded in the stone than it did like a carving.

Jack walked around and looked at the details in the fading light of the
setting sun. He wished he'd looked at it while the sun was higher in the
sky.

Wait! The sun was setting! That meant he was going to have to spend another
night out here! Arrrgh!

Jack looked out across the desert for a little bit, and then came back and
stood next to Nate. "In all the excitement, I almost forgot, Nate," said
Jack. "Which way is it back to town? And how far? I'm eventually going to
have to head back - I'm not sure I'll be able to survive by eating raw
desert critters for long. And even if I can, I'm not sure I'll want to."

"It's about 30 miles that way." Nate pointed, with the rattle on his tail
this time. As far as Jack could tell, it was a direction at right angles to
the way he'd been going when he was crawling here. "But that's 30 miles by
the way the crow flies. It's about 40 by the way a man walks. You should be
able to do it in about half a day with your improved endurance, if you head
out early tomorrow, Jack."

Jack looked out the way the snake had pointed for a few seconds more, and
then sat back down. It was getting dark. Not much he could do about heading
out right now. And besides, Nate was just about to get to the interesting
stuff. "Garden of Eden? As best as you can figure it?"

"Well, yeah, as best as I and Samuel could figure it anyway," said Nate. "He
figured that the story just got a little mixed up. You know, snake, in a
'tree', offering 'temptations', making bargains. That kind stuff. But he
could never quite figure out how the Hebrews found out about this spot from
across the ocean. He worried about that for a while."

"Garden of Eden, hunh?" said Jack. "How long have you been here, Nate?"

"No idea, really," replied Nate. "A long time. It never occurred to me to
count years, until recently, and by then, of course, it was too late. But I
do remember when this whole place was green, so I figure it's been thousands
of years, at least."

"So, are you the snake that tempted Eve?" said Jack.

"Beats me," said Nate. "Maybe. I can't remember if the first one of your
kind that I talked to was female or not, and I never got a name, but it
could have been. And I suppose she could have considered my offer to grant
requests a 'temptation', though I've rarely had refusals."

"Well, umm, how did you get here then? And why is that white pole stuck out
of the stone there?" asked Jack.

"Dad left me here. Or, I assume it was my dad. It was another snake - much
bigger than I was back then. I remember talking to him, but I don't remember
if it was in a language, or just kind of understanding what he wanted. But
one day, he brought me to this stone, told me about it, and asked me to do
something for him. I talked it over with him for a while, then agreed. I've
been here ever since.

"What is this place?" said Jack. "And what did he ask you to do?"

"Well, you see this pole here, sticking out of the stone?" Nate loosened his
coils around the tilted white pole and showed Jack where it descended into
the stone. The pole was tilted at about a 45 degree angle and seemed to
enter the stone in an eighteen inch slot cut into the stone. Jack leaned
over and looked. The slot was dark and the pole went down into it as far as
Jack could see in the dim light. Jack reached out to touch the pole, but
Nate was suddenly there in the way.

"You can't touch that yet, Jack," said Nate.

"Why not?" asked Jack.

"I haven't explained it to you yet," replied Nate.

"Well, it kinda looks like a lever or something," said Jack. "You'd push it
that way, and it would move in the slot."

"Yep, that's what it is," replied Nate.

"What does it do?" asked Jack. "End the world?"

"Oh, no," said Nate. "Nothing that drastic. It just ends humanity. I call it
'The Lever of Doom'." For the last few words Nate had used a deeper, ringing
voice. He tried to look serious for a few seconds, and then gave up and
grinned.

Jack was initially startled by Nate's pronouncement, but when Nate grinned
Jack laughed. "Ha! You almost had me fooled for a second there. What does it
really do?"

"Oh, it really ends humanity, like I said," smirked Nate. "I just thought
the voice I used was funny, didn't you?"

Nate continued to grin.

"A lever to end humanity?" asked Jack. "What in the world is that for? Why
would anyone need to end humanity?"

"Well," replied Nate, "I get the idea that maybe humanity was an experiment.
Or maybe the Big Guy just thought, that if humanity started going really
bad, there should be a way to end it. I'm not really sure. All I know are
the rules, and the guesses that Samuel and I had about why it's here. I
didn't think to ask back when I started here."

"Rules? What rules?" asked Jack.

"The rules are that I can't tell anybody about it or let them touch it
unless they agree to be bound to secrecy by a bite. And that only one human
can be bound in that way at a time. That's it." explained Nate.

Jack looked somewhat shocked. "You mean that I could pull the lever now?
You'd let me end humanity?"

"Yep," replied Nate, "if you want to." Nate looked at Jack carefully. "Do
you want to, Jack?"

"Umm, no." said Jack, stepping a little further back from the lever. "Why in
the world would anyone want to end humanity? It'd take a psychotic to want
that! Or worse, a suicidal psychotic, because it would kill him too,
wouldn't it?"

"Yep," replied Nate, "being as he'd be human too."

"Has anyone ever seriously considered it?" asked Nate. "Any of those bound
to secrecy, that is?"

"Well, of course, I think they've all seriously considered it at one time or
another. Being given that kind of responsibility makes you sit down and
think, or so I'm told. Samuel considered it several times. He'd often get
disgusted with humanity, come out here, and just hold the lever for a while.
But he never pulled it. Or you wouldn't be here." Nate grinned some more.

Jack sat down, well back from the lever. He looked thoughtful and puzzled at
the same time. After a bit, he said, "So this makes me the Judge of
humanity? I get to decide whether they keep going or just end? Me?"

"That seems to be it," agreed Nate.

"What kind of criteria do I use to decide?" said Jack. "How do I make this
decision? Am I supposed to decide if they're good? Or too many of them are
bad? Or that they're going the wrong way? Is there a set of rules for that?"

"Nope," replied Nate. "You pretty much just have to decide on your own. It's
up to you, however you want to decide it. I guess that you're just supposed
to know."

"But what if I get mad at someone? Or some girl dumps me and I feel
horrible? Couldn't I make a mistake? How do I know that I won't screw up?"
protested Jack.

Nate gave his kind of snake-like shrug again. "You don't. You just have to
try your best, Jack."

Jack sat there for a while, staring off into the desert that was rapidly
getting dark, chewing on a fingernail.

Suddenly, Jack turned around and looked at the snake. "Nate, was Samuel the
one bound to this before me?"

"Yep," replied Nate. "He was a good guy. Talked to me a lot. Taught me to
read and brought me books. I think I still have a good pile of them buried
in the sand around here somewhere. I still miss him. He died a few months
ago."

"Sounds like a good guy," agreed Jack. "How did he handle this, when you
first told him. What did he do?"

"Well," said Nate, "he sat down for a while, thought about it for a bit, and
then asked me some questions, much like you're doing."

"What did he ask you, if you're allowed to tell me?" asked Jack.

"He asked me about the third request," replied Nate.

"Aha!" It was Jack's turn to grin. "And what did you tell him?"

"I told him the rules for the third request. That to get the third request
you have to agree to this whole thing. That if it ever comes to the point
that you really think that humanity should be ended, that you'll come here
and end it. You won't avoid it, and you won't wimp out." Nate looked serious
again. "And you'll be bound to do it too, Jack."

"Hmmm." Jack looked back out into the darkness for a while.

Nate watched him, waiting.

"Nate," continued Jack, quietly, eventually. "What did Samuel ask for with
his third request?"

Nate sounded like he was grinning again as he replied, also quietly,
"Wisdom, Jack. He asked for wisdom. As much as I could give him."

"Ok," said Jack, suddenly, standing up and facing away from Nate, "give it
to me.

Nate looked at Jack's backside. "Give you what, Jack?"

"Give me that wisdom. The same stuff that Samuel asked for. If it helped
him, maybe it'll help me too." Jack turned his head to look back over his
shoulder at Nate. "It did help him, right?"

"He said it did," replied Nate. "But he seemed a little quieter afterward.
Like he had a lot to think about."

"Well, yeah, I can see that," said Jack. "So, give it to me." Jack turned to
face away from Nate again, bent over slightly and tensed up.

Nate watched Jack tense up with a little exasperation. If he bit Jack now,
Jack would likely jump out of his skin and maybe hurt them both.

"You remember that you'll be bound to destroy humanity if it ever looks like
it needs it, right Jack?" asked Nate, shifting position.

"Yeah, yeah, I got that," replied Jack, eyes squeezed tightly shut and body
tense, not noticing the change in direction of Nate's voice.

"And," continued Nate, from his new position, "do you remember that you'll
turn bright purple, and grow big horns and extra eyes?"

"Yeah, yeah...Hey, wait a minute!" said Jack, opening his eyes,
straightening up and turning around. "Purple?!" He didn't see Nate there.
With the moonlight Jack could see that the lever extended up from its slot
in the rock without the snake wrapped around it.

Jack heard, from behind him, Nate's "Just Kidding!" right before he felt the
now familiar piercing pain, this time in the other buttock.

Jack sat on the edge of the dark stone in the rapidly cooling air, his feet
extending out into the sand. He stared out into the darkness, listening to
the wind stir the sand, occasionally rubbing his butt where he'd been
recently bitten.

Nate had left for a little while, had come back with a desert-rodent-shaped
bulge somewhere in his middle, and was now wrapped back around the lever,
his tongue flicking out into the desert night's air the only sign that he
was still awake.

Occasionally Jack, with his toes absentmindedly digging in the sand while he
thought, would ask Nate a question without turning around.

"Nate, do accidents count?"

Nate lifted his head a little bit. "What do you mean, Jack?"

Jack tilted his head back like he was looking at the stars. "You know,
accidents. If I accidentally fall on the lever, without meaning to, does
that still wipe out humanity?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure it does, Jack. I'd suggest you be careful about that
if you start feeling wobbly," said Nate with some amusement.

A little later - "Does it have to be me that pulls the lever?" asked Jack.

"That's the rule, Jack. Nobody else can pull it," answered Nate.

"No," Jack shook his head, "I meant does it have to be my hand? Could I pull
the lever with a rope tied around it? Or push it with a stick? Or throw a
rock?"

"Yes, those should work," replied Nate. "Though I'm not sure how complicated
you could get. Samuel thought about trying to build some kind of remote
control for it once, but gave it up. Everything he'd build would be gone by
the next sunrise, if it was touching the stone, or over it. I told him that
in the past others that had been bound had tried to bury the lever so they
wouldn't be tempted to pull it, but every time the stones or sand or
whatever had disappeared."

"Wow," said Jack, "Cool." Jack leaned back until only his elbows kept him
off of the stone and looked up into the sky.

"Nate, how long did Samuel live? One of his wishes was for health too,
right?" asked Jack.

"Yes," replied Nate, "it was. He lived 167 years, Jack."

"Wow, 167 years. That's almost 140 more years I'll live if I live as long.
Do you know what he died of, Nate?"

"He died of getting tired of living, Jack," Nate said, sounding somewhat
sad.

Jack turned his head to look at Nate in the starlight.

Nate looked back. "Samuel knew he wasn't going to be able to stay in
society. He figured that they'd eventually see him still alive and start
questioning it, so he decided that he'd have to disappear after a while. He
faked his death once, but changed his mind - he decided it was too early and
he could stay for a little longer. He wasn't very fond of mankind, but he
liked the attention. Most of the time, anyway.

"His daughter and then his wife dying almost did him in though. He didn't
stay in society much longer after that. He eventually came out here to spend
time talking to me and thinking about pulling the lever. A few months ago he
told me he'd had enough. It was his time."

"And then he just died?" asked Jack.

Nate shook his head a little. "He made his forth request, Jack. There's only
one thing you can ask for the fourth request. The last bite.

After a bit Nate continued, "He told me that he was tired, that it was his
time. He reassured me that someone new would show up soon, like they always
had.

After another pause, Nate finished, "Samuel's body disappeared off the stone
with the sunrise."

Jack lay back down and looked at the sky, leaving Nate alone with his
memories. It was a long time until Jack's breathing evened out into sleep.

Jack woke with the sunrise the next morning. He was a little chilled with
the morning desert air, but overall was feeling pretty good. Well, except
that his stomach was grumbling and he wasn't willing to eat raw desert rat.

So, after getting directions to town from Nate, making sure he knew how to
get back, and reassuring Nate that he'd be back soon, Jack started the long
walk back to town. With his new health and Nate's good directions, he made
it back easily. To be continued...

Jack caught a bus back to the city, and showed up for work the next day,
little worse for the wear and with a story about getting lost in the desert
and walking back out. Within a couple of days Jack had talked a friend with
a tow truck into going back out into the desert with him to fetch the SUV.
They found it after a couple of hours of searching and towed it back without
incident. Jack was careful not to even look in the direction of Nate's
lever, though their path back didn't come within sight of it.

Before the next weekend, Jack had gone to a couple of stores, including a
book store, and had gotten his SUV back from the mechanic, with a warning to
avoid any more joyriding in the desert. On Saturday, Jack headed back to see
Nate.

Jack parked a little way out of the small town near Nate, loaded up his new
backpack with camping gear and the things he was bringing for Nate, and then
started walking. He figured that walking would leave the least trail, and he
knew that while not many people camped in the desert, it wasn't unheard of,
and shouldn't really raise suspicions.

Jack had brought more books for Nate - recent books, magazines, newspapers.
Some things that would catch Nate up with what was happening in the world,
others that were just good books to read. He spent the weekend with Nate,
and then headed out again, telling Nate that he'd be back again soon, but
that he had things to do first.

Over four months later Jack was back to see Nate again. This time he brought
a laptop with him - a specially modified laptop. It had a solar recharger,
special filters and seals to keep out the sand, a satellite link-up, and a
special keyboard and joystick that Jack hoped that a fifteen-foot
rattlesnake would be able to use. And, it had been hacked to not give out
its location to the satellite.

After that Jack could e-mail Nate to keep in touch, but still visited him
fairly regularly - at least once or twice a year.

After the first year, Jack quit his job. For some reason, with the wisdom he
'd been given, and the knowledge that he could live for over 150 years,
working in a nine to five job for someone else didn't seem that worthwhile
any more. Jack went back to school.

Eventually, Jack started writing. Perhaps because of the wisdom, or perhaps
because of his new perspective, he wrote well. People liked what he wrote,
and he became well known for it. After a time, Jack bought an RV and started
traveling around the country for book signings and readings.

But, he still remembered to drop by and visit Nate occasionally.

On one of the visits Nate seemed quieter than usual. Not that Nate had been
a fountain of joy lately. Jack's best guess was that Nate was still missing
Samuel, and though Jack had tried, he still hadn't been able to replace
Samuel in Nate's eyes. Nate had been getting quieter each visit. But on this
visit Nate didn't even speak when Jack walked up to the lever. He nodded at
Jack, and then went back to staring into the desert. Jack, respecting Nate's
silence, sat down and waited.

After a few minutes, Nate spoke. "Jack, I have someone to introduce you to."

Jack looked surprised. "Someone to introduce me to?" Jack looked around, and
then looked carefully back at Nate. "This something to do with the Big Guy?

"No, no," replied Nate. "This is more personal. I want you to meet my son."
Nate looked over at the nearest sand dune. "Sammy!"

Jack watched as a four foot long desert rattlesnake crawled from behind the
dune and up to the stone base of the lever.

"Yo, Jack," said the new, much smaller snake.

"Yo, Sammy" replied Jack. Jack looked at Nate. "Named after Samuel, I
assume?"

Nate nodded. "Jack, I've got a favor to ask you. Could you show Sammy around
for me?" Nate unwrapped himself from the lever and slithered over to the
edge of the stone and looked across the sands. "When Samuel first told me
about the world, and brought me books and pictures, I wished that I could go
see it. I wanted to see the great forests, the canyons, the cities, even the
other deserts, to see if they felt and smelled the same. I want my son to
have that chance - to see the world. Before he becomes bound here like I
have been.

"He's seen it in pictures, over the computer that you brought me. But I hear
that it's not the same. That being there is different. I want him to have
that. Think you can do that for me, Jack?"

Jack nodded. This was obviously very important to Nate, so Jack didn't even
joke about taking a talking rattlesnake out to see the world. "Yeah, I can
do that for you, Nate. Is that all you need?" Jack could sense that was
something more.

Nate looked at Sammy. Sammy looked back at Nate for a second and then said,
"Oh, yeah. Ummm, I've gotta go pack. Back in a little bit Jack. Nice to meet
ya!" Sammy slithered back over the dune and out of sight.

Nate watched Sammy disappear and then looked back at Jack. "Jack, this is my
first son. My first offspring through all the years. You don't even want to
know what it took for me to find a mate." Nate grinned to himself. "But
anyway, I had a son for a reason. I'm tired. I'm ready for it to be over. I
needed a replacement."

Jack considered this for a minute. "So, you're ready to come see the world,
and you wanted him to watch the lever while you were gone?"

Nate shook his head. "No, Jack - you're a better guesser than that. You've
already figured out - I'm bound here - there's only one way for me to leave
here. And I'm ready. It's my time to die."

Jack looked more closely at Nate. He could tell Nate had thought about
this - probably for quite a while. Jack had trouble imagining what it would
be like to be as old as Nate, but Jack could already tell that in another
hundred or two hundred years, he might be getting tired of life himself.
Jack could understand Samuel's decision, and now Nate's. So, all Jack said
was, "What do you want me to do?"

Nate nodded. "Thanks, Jack. I only want two things. One - show Sammy around
the world - let him get his fill of it, until he's ready to come back here
and take over. Two - give me the fourth request.

"I can't just decide to die, not any more than you can. I won't even die of
old age like you eventually will, even though it'll be a long time from now.
I need to be killed. Once Sammy is back here, ready to take over, I'll be
able to die. And I need you to kill me.

"I've even thought about how. Poisons and other drugs won't work on me. And
I've seen pictures of snakes that were shot - some of them live for days, so
that's out too. So, I want you to bring back a sword.

Nate turned away to look back to the dune that Sammy had gone behind. "I'd
say an axe, but that's somewhat undignified - putting my head on the ground
or a chopping block like that. No, I like a sword. A time-honored way of
going out. A dignified way to die. And, most importantly, it should work,
even on me.

"You willing to do that for me, Jack?" Nate turned back to look at Jack.

"Yeah, Nate," replied Jack solemnly, "I think I can handle that."

Nate nodded. "Good!" He turned back toward the dune and shouted, "Sammy!
Jack's about ready to leave!" Then quietly, "Thanks, Jack."

Jack didn't have anything to say to that, so he waited for Sammy to make it
back to the lever, nodded to him, nodded a final time to Nate, and then
headed into the desert with Sammy following.
Over the next several years Sammy and Jack kept in touch with Nate through
e-mail as they went about their adventures. They made a goal of visiting
every country in the world, and did a respectable job of it. Sammy had a
natural gift for languages, as Jack expected he would, and even ended up
acting as a translator for Jack in a few of the countries. Jack managed to
keep the talking rattlesnake hidden, even so, and by the time they were
nearing the end of their tour of countries, Sammy had only been spotted a
few times. While there were several people that had seen enough to startle
them greatly, nobody had enough evidence to prove anything, and while a few
wild rumors and storied followed Jack and Sammy around, nothing ever hit the
newspapers or the public in general.

When they finished the tour of countries, Jack suggested that they try some
undersea diving. They did. And spelunking. They did that too. Sammy finally
drew the line at visiting Antarctica. He'd come to realize that Jack was
stalling. After talking to his Dad about it over e-mail, he figured out that
Jack probably didn't want to have to kill Nate. Nate told Sammy that humans
could be squeamish about killing friends and acquaintances.

So, Sammy eventually put his tail down (as he didn't have a foot) and told
Jack that it was time - he was ready to go back and take up his duties from
his dad. Jack, delayed it a little more by insisting that they go back to
Japan and buy an appropriate sword. He even stretched it a little more by
getting lessons in how to use the sword. But, eventually, he'd learned as
much as he was likely to without dedicating his life to it, and was
definitely competent enough to take the head off of a snake. It was time to
head back and see Nate.

When they got back to the US, Jack got the old RV out of storage where he
and Sammy had left it after their tour of the fifty states, he loaded up
Sammy and the sword, and they headed for the desert.

When they got to the small town that Jack had been trying to find those
years ago when he'd met Nate, Jack was in a funk. He didn't really feel like
walking all of the way out there. Not only that, but he'd forgotten to
figure the travel time correctly, and it was late afternoon. They'd either
have to spend the night in town and walk out tomorrow, or walk in the dark.

As Jack was afraid that if he waited one more night he might lose his
resolve, he decided that he'd go ahead and drive the RV out there. It was
only going to be this once, and Jack would go back and cover the tracks
afterward. They ought to be able to make it out there by nightfall if they
drove, and then they could get it over tonight.

Jack told Sammy to e-mail Nate that they were coming as he drove out of
sight of the town on the road. They then pulled off the road and headed out
into the desert.

Everything went well, until they got to the sand dunes. Jack had been
nursing the RV along the whole time, over the rocks, through the creek beds,
revving the engine the few times they almost got stuck. When they came to
the dunes, Jack didn't really think about it, he just downshifted and headed
up the first one. By the third dune, Jack started to regret that he'd
decided to try driving on the sand. The RV was fishtailling and losing
traction. Jack was having to work it up each dune slowly and was trying to
keep from losing control each time they came over the top and slid down the
other side. Sammy had come up to sit in the passenger seat, coiled up and
laughing at Jack's driving.

As they came over the top of the fourth dune, the biggest one yet, Jack saw
that this was the final dune - the stone, the lever, and somewhere Nate,
waited below. Jack put on the brakes, but he'd gone a little too far. The RV
started slipping down the other side.

Jack tried turning the wheel, but he didn't have enough traction. He pumped
the brakes - no response. They started sliding down the hill, faster and
faster.

Jack felt a shock go through him as he suddenly realized that they were
heading for the lever. He looked down - the RV was directly on course for
it. If Jack didn't do something, the RV would hit it. He was about to end
humanity.

Jack steered more frantically, trying to get traction. It still wasn't
working. The dune was too steep, and the sand too loose. In a split second,
Jack realized that his only chance would be once he hit the stone around the
lever - he should have traction on the stone for just a second before he hit
the lever - he wouldn't have time to stop, but he should be able to steer
away.

Jack took a better grip on the steering wheel and tried to turn the RV a
little bit - every little bit would help. He'd have to time his turn just
right.

The RV got to the bottom of the dune, sliding at an amazing speed in the
sand. Just before they reached the stone Jack looked across it to check that
they were still heading for the lever. They were. But Jack noticed something
else that he hadn't seen from the top of the dune. Nate wasn't wrapped
around the lever. He was off to the side of the lever, but still on the
stone, waiting for them. The problem was, he was waiting on the same side of
the lever that Jack had picked to steer towards to avoid the lever. The RV
was already starting to drift that way a little in its mad rush across the
sand and there was no way that Jack was going to be able to go around the
lever to the other side.

Jack had an instant of realization. He was either going to have to hit the
lever, or run over Nate. He glanced over at Sammy and saw that Sammy
realized the same thing.

Jack took a firmer grip on the steering wheel as the RV ran up on the stone.
Shouting to Sammy as he pulled the steering wheel, "BETTER NATE THAN LEVER," he ran over the snake.

Ithankyou. ¬_¬

*dies of exhaustion*

Ithankyou. ¬_¬

*dies of exhaustion*


*tries to read it, head explodes*

or or or



Did you hear about the shepherd who drove his flock through town, and got a traffic ticket for making a ewe turn.
ah, but after the ticket, did he get the Flock outta town?

ah, but after the ticket, did he get the Flock outta town?


he tried but the police put up a road blaaaaaaaaaa-ck

You make me sad.

You make me sad.
why is that, I pun-der.

why is that, I pun-der.

he doesnt know how to have a pun-derful time!

he tried but the police put up a road blaaaaaaaaaa-ck
ah, so he was arrested and charged for trying to Fleece the police outta the ticket fine...

so I guess the cops will make ruminant the holding cell for him.

he doesnt know how to have a pun-derful time!
you are quite the com-pun-tent observer, my friend.

a man's home is his castle, in a manor of speaking.
Time flies like an arrow. Fruit flies like a banana.
A backwards poet writes inverse.
A hangover is the wrath of grapes.

Don't know if these have been done, but puns can be quite funny.

What's Irish and stays out all night?
Paddy O' Furniture :p

you are quite the com-pun-tent observer, my friend.


yes because i observed the other day that the sheeps faces at the farm were all red, im guessing they were baaaaaaaaaaashful

Ever seen the Catskill Mountains? No silly, the cats kill mice.

Ever seen the Catskill Mountains? No silly, the cats kill mice.Purrrrrrr-fect.

I nominate myself, because my puns are dull.

Link to funny webcomic with puns aplenty:

http://www.irregularwebcomic.net/791.html
http://www.irregularwebcomic.net/891.html
http://www.irregularwebcomic.net/991.html
http://www.irregularwebcomic.net/1091.html
http://www.irregularwebcomic.net/1191.html

http://www.irregularwebcomic.net/1234.html
http://www.irregularwebcomic.net/1242.html
http://www.irregularwebcomic.net/1257.html


plenty more where this came from, but you get the idea.

What to you get when you throw a grenade into a French kitchen?

Linoleum Blownapart! :D

You people may be ready. 'Ready for what?' you ask?

Ready for the Worst Joke Ever. Yes. I invented the worst joke ever. If ever you see it elsewhere on the Internet, know what the joke's source is:

There was a local radio contest called: Worst Joke Wednesday. Which I won. I also won that radio contest's Worst Joke of The Year in 1990 for the same joke. So this is MY joke!

Here goes:

A man works for the trolley company in San Francisco. He's an excellent employee: knowledgeable, friendly and punctual. One day, however, he simply snaps. He grabs a passenger and throws him off the trolley into the street. The passenger is hit by a car and killed.

The man is arrested, eventually convicted of murder and sentenced to death by electric chair. When the warden asked him what his last request was, he said, "I want a straight banana." The warden blinked, "A WHAT?" He repeated; "I want a straight banana."

Immediately, they began searching for a straight banana, but they couldn't find one in the entire city. THey expanded their search nationwide. Still no straight banana. After a worldwide search, they find one. The last banana boat's last banana is a straight banana. THey bring the man his banana and he holds it as they flip the switch. ... Nothing happens. Perplexed, the warden has the chair checked thoroughly and tries again. Nothing happens. They try a third time. Nothing.

Now it's a little known fact that if you survive three attempts to kill you, that they have to let you go. And the truly amazing part of the story is that the man gets his old job back. For six months, he's a model employee. After a year, he has won Employee of The Month thre times. But one day, he snaps again. Tosses another passenger into the street with the same results.

He's convicted of murder again and sentenced to the chair. The warden asks him for his last request. He says, "I want a straight banana." The warden twitches a bit, but nods and begins the search. Months later, they find a second straight banana. He's holding it when they flip the switch. ...Nothing happens. They check the chair carefully and flip the switch again. Still nothing. For the third attempt, they leave the switch flipped for an hour. Nothing.

They let him go again and astonishingly, he gets his old job back. For a year and a half, he's a model employee; He even wins the Key to the City as the best employee of the year. But one day, he snaps again. Another passenger dies. Another murder conviction. THe same warden asks him, "What do you want for your last request?" They both answer at the same time, "A straight banana."

This time they're ready. They have that damn banana freeze-dried! They throw him in the chair, slap the banana in his hand and flip the switch. ...Nothing happens. The second attempt, the chair remains on for an hour. Nothing. For the third attempt, they route all power in the city through that damn chair. No effect.

The warden is yanking his hair out. He's at his wit's end. He says with a shaky voice, "How do you do it?!? Is it the straight banana?" The man says calmly, "No. I guess I'm just a poor conductor."

:D

When is a car not a car?
When it turns into a driveway!

When is a door not a door?
When it's ajar!

You people may be ready. 'Ready for what?' you ask?

Ready for the Worst Joke Ever. Yes. I invented the worst joke ever. If ever you see it elsewhere on the Internet, know what the joke's source is:

There was a local radio contest called: Worst Joke Wednesday. Which I won. I also won that radio contest's Worst Joke of The Year in 1990 for the same joke. So this is MY joke!

Here goes:

A man works for the trolley company in San Francisco. He's an excellent employee: knowledgeable, friendly and punctual. One day, however, he simply snaps. He grabs a passenger and throws him off the trolley into the street. The passenger is hit by a car and killed.

The man is arrested, eventually convicted of murder and sentenced to death by electric chair. When the warden asked him what his last request was, he said, "I want a straight banana." The warden blinked, "A WHAT?" He repeated; "I want a straight banana."

Immediately, they began searching for a straight banana, but they couldn't find one in the entire city. THey expanded their search nationwide. Still no straight banana. After a worldwide search, they find one. The last banana boat's last banana is a straight banana. THey bring the man his banana and he holds it as they flip the switch. ... Nothing happens. Perplexed, the warden has the chair checked thoroughly and tries again. Nothing happens. They try a third time. Nothing.

Now it's a little known fact that if you survive three attempts to kill you, that they have to let you go. And the truly amazing part of the story is that the man gets his old job back. For six months, he's a model employee. After a year, he has won Employee of The Month thre times. But one day, he snaps again. Tosses another passenger into the street with the same results.

He's convicted of murder again and sentenced to the chair. The warden asks him for his last request. He says, "I want a straight banana." The warden twitches a bit, but nods and begins the search. Months later, they find a second straight banana. He's holding it when they flip the switch. ...Nothing happens. They check the chair carefully and flip the switch again. Still nothing. For the third attempt, they leave the switch flipped for an hour. Nothing.

They let him go again and astonishingly, he gets his old job back. For a year and a half, he's a model employee; He even wins the Key to the City as the best employee of the year. But one day, he snaps again. Another passenger dies. Another murder conviction. THe same warden asks him, "What do you want for your last request?" They both answer at the same time, "A straight banana."

This time they're ready. They have that damn banana freeze-dried! They throw him in the chair, slap the banana in his hand and flip the switch. ...Nothing happens. The second attempt, the chair remains on for an hour. Nothing. For the third attempt, they route all power in the city through that damn chair. No effect.

The warden is yanking his hair out. He's at his wit's end. He says with a shaky voice, "How do you do it?!? Is it the straight banana?" The man says calmly, "No. I guess I'm just a poor conductor."

:D

LMFAO!!!

Shortly after being weaned, I heard a young child tell its mother "thanks for the mammaries.":D

Shortly after being weaned, I heard a young child tell its mother "thanks for the mammaries.":D

YAY! :D

Two antennae got married. The wedding wasnt much but the reception was fantastic.

You people may be ready. 'Ready for what?' you ask?

Ready for the Worst Joke Ever. Yes. I invented the worst joke ever. If ever you see it elsewhere on the Internet, know what the joke's source is:

There was a local radio contest called: Worst Joke Wednesday. Which I won. I also won that radio contest's Worst Joke of The Year in 1990 for the same joke. So this is MY joke!

Here goes:

A man works for the trolley company in San Francisco. He's an excellent employee: knowledgeable, friendly and punctual. One day, however, he simply snaps. He grabs a passenger and throws him off the trolley into the street. The passenger is hit by a car and killed.

The man is arrested, eventually convicted of murder and sentenced to death by electric chair. When the warden asked him what his last request was, he said, "I want a straight banana." The warden blinked, "A WHAT?" He repeated; "I want a straight banana."

Immediately, they began searching for a straight banana, but they couldn't find one in the entire city. THey expanded their search nationwide. Still no straight banana. After a worldwide search, they find one. The last banana boat's last banana is a straight banana. THey bring the man his banana and he holds it as they flip the switch. ... Nothing happens. Perplexed, the warden has the chair checked thoroughly and tries again. Nothing happens. They try a third time. Nothing.

Now it's a little known fact that if you survive three attempts to kill you, that they have to let you go. And the truly amazing part of the story is that the man gets his old job back. For six months, he's a model employee. After a year, he has won Employee of The Month thre times. But one day, he snaps again. Tosses another passenger into the street with the same results.

He's convicted of murder again and sentenced to the chair. The warden asks him for his last request. He says, "I want a straight banana." The warden twitches a bit, but nods and begins the search. Months later, they find a second straight banana. He's holding it when they flip the switch. ...Nothing happens. They check the chair carefully and flip the switch again. Still nothing. For the third attempt, they leave the switch flipped for an hour. Nothing.

They let him go again and astonishingly, he gets his old job back. For a year and a half, he's a model employee; He even wins the Key to the City as the best employee of the year. But one day, he snaps again. Another passenger dies. Another murder conviction. THe same warden asks him, "What do you want for your last request?" They both answer at the same time, "A straight banana."

This time they're ready. They have that damn banana freeze-dried! They throw him in the chair, slap the banana in his hand and flip the switch. ...Nothing happens. The second attempt, the chair remains on for an hour. Nothing. For the third attempt, they route all power in the city through that damn chair. No effect.

The warden is yanking his hair out. He's at his wit's end. He says with a shaky voice, "How do you do it?!? Is it the straight banana?" The man says calmly, "No. I guess I'm just a poor conductor."

:D


http://img367.imageshack.us/img367/3251/owllol1fg.jpg

Here's my contribution.

Two cannibals are sitting in the desert, eating a clown. Once cannibal turns to the other and says, "Hey, does this taste funny to you?".

A doctor tells an old man that his wife has acute angina, to which the old man says "Yeah, and her butts not bad either."

Ithankyou. ¬_¬

*dies of exhaustion*

Reads both jokes, is severly dissapointed, istead of rewarding ToL with a nice pun-net of fruit, he pokes him in the left eyeball with a blunt stick

*left wondeing why i wasted 15 minutes of my life reading it*

Reads both jokes, is severly dissapointed, istead of rewarding ToL with a nice pun-net of fruit, he pokes him in the left eyeball with a blunt stick

*left wondeing why i wasted 15 minutes of my life reading it*
you didn't have to Pun-nish him like that. Pun-titive measures would have ben enoungh.

Like what? Throwing worse puns at him?

Ithankyou. ¬_¬

*dies of exhaustion*
JESUS TITTYFUCKING CHRIST :eek: :eek:

i now hate those robots...

Here's my contribution.

Two cannibals are sitting in the desert, eating a clown. Once cannibal turns to the other and says, "Hey, does this taste funny to you?".
Two clowns are eating a cannibal. One says to the other, "There's nothing funny about this"

After Quasimodo's death, the bishop of the Cathedral of Notre Dame sent word through the streets of Paris that a new bell ringer was needed. The bishop decided that he would conduct the interviews personally and went up into the belfry to begin the screening process.


After observing several applicants demonstrate their skills, he had decided to call it a day when an armless man approached him and announced that he was there to apply for the bell ringer's job.

The bishop was incredulous.

"You have no arms!"

"No matter." said the man, "Observe!" And he began striking the bells with his face, producing a beautiful melody on the carillon.

The bishop listened in astonishment, convinced he had finally found a suitable replacement for Quasimodo. But suddenly, rushing forward to strike a bell, the armless man tripped and plunged headlong out of the belfry window to his death in the street below. The stunned bishop rushed to his side.

When he reached the street, a crowd had gathered around the fallen figure, drawn by the beautiful music they had heard only moments before. As they silently parted to let the bishop through, one of them asked, "Bishop, who was this man?"

"I don't know his name," the bishop sadly replied, "but his face rings a bell."

There was a Clown that got fired from his job.... So he's suing the Circus for funfair dismissal.

(Carried on from my earlier post)
The following day, despite the sadness that weighed heavily on his heart due to the unfortunate death of the armless campanologist, the bishop continued his interviews for the bell ringer of Notre Dame. The first man to approach him said, "Your Excellency, I am the brother of the poor armless wretch that fell to his death from this very belfry yesterday. I pray that you honor his life by allowing me to replace him in this duty."

The bishop agreed to give the man an audition, and, as the armless man's brother stooped to pick up a mallet to strike the first bell, he groaned, clutched at his chest and died on the spot.

Two monks, hearing the bishop's cries of grief at this second tragedy, rushed up the stairs to his side. "What has happened? Who is this man?" the first monk asked breathlessly.

"I don't know his name," sighed the distraught bishop, "but he's a dead ringer for his brother."

A Bear walks into McDonald's and says to the McIdiot serving, "I'll have a Coke, medium fires, ...
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and a Big Mac."

The McIdiot asks, "What's with the big pause?"

The bear says, "I dunno, I've always had them."

A Bear walks into McDonald's and says to the McIdiot serving, "I'll have a Coke, medium fires, ...
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and a Big Mac."

The McIdiot asks, "What's with the big pause?"

The bear says, "I dunno, I've always had them."

The bear behind him is a DJ. He had wee paws for station identification. :D

If someone is a vegetable, it is fruitless to keep them alive.

A SCAdian (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Society_for_Creative_Anachronism) started off with a French persona (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Society_for_Creative_Anachronism#Persona). He really got in to his roll over the next several years, capping the whole experience by building his own small manor house. Eventually he got bored and changed his persona. He's a château of his former self....

Hey, did you hear about the magic tractor?
It was driving down the road and then suddenly turned into a field

Two vultures board an airplane; each is carrying two dead raccoons. The stewardess looks at them and says, "I'm sorry gentlemen, only one carrion allowed per passenger."

A group of chess enthusiasts checked into a hotel and were standing in the lobby discussing their recent tournament victories. After about an hour, the manager came out of the office and asked them to disperse. "But why?" they asked.
"Because," he said, "I can't stand chess nuts boasting in an open foyer."

Avenue Road?
No thanks. the old one's still okay.

Hey, did you hear about the magic tractor?
It was driving down the road and then suddenly turned into a field

Sorta like my magic trick of turning a pumpkin into another vegetable - throw it up in the air and it comes down ......................... squash.

A bra and a pair of jumper leads walk into a bar.

The barman says, "Oi, out. I'm not serving you. You're off your tits and your mate looks like he's going to start something."

One day in a bare field Alicia Algae met Fred Fungus and they sat down on a rock for a while because they took a lichen to each other

Eventually.


Damn, now I almost feel dared to go look whose useless knowledge is more useless, but there were so many of these threads around yesterday...


ETA: Hehehehehe (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=11296468&postcount=300). :D
Horrid.

Did you hear about the guy who sent ten different puns to his friends, with the hope that at least one of the puns would make them laugh.
















Unfortunately, no pun in ten did.

When a ladder was stolen from a store the manager said that further steps would be taken.

The toilet from the local police station was stolen last night. Unfortunately the police have nothing to go on.

When a ladder was stolen from a store the manager said that further steps would be taken.
it might have been the same guy who stole a shipment of Viagra...

police know that culprit is a hardened criminal and faces stiff penalties.

What did the guy say, who needed the restroom, when he found someone blocking him? 'Urine my way'.

The mime wanted to say something, but he wasn't aloud.

A prisoner's favorite punctuation mark is the period. It marks the end of his sentence.

Two Kerrymen walk into a pet shop in Dingle. They head to the Bird section and Gerry says to Paddy, "Dat's dem." The owner
Comes over And asks if he can help them. "Yeah, we'll take four of dem dere littlebudgies in dat cage up dere," says Gerry. The owner puts the budgies in a paper bag.
Paddy and Gerry pay for the birds, leave the shop and get into Gerry's truck to drive to the top of the Connor Pass. At the Connor Pass, Gerry looks down at the 1000' foot drop and says, "Dis looks like a grand place." He takes two birds out of the bag, puts them on his shoulders and jumps off the cliff. Paddy watches as Gerry falls all the way to the bottom, killing himself stone dead.
Looking down at the remains of his best pal, Paddy shakes his head and says, "Fook dat. Dis budgie jumping is too fook'n dangerous for me!"

Moment's later, Seamus arrives up at Connor Pass. He's been to the pet shop too and walks up to the edge of the cliff carrying another paper bag in one hand and a shotgun in the other. "Hi, Paddy. Watch dis," Seamus says. He takes a parrot from the bag and throws himself over the edge of the cliff. Paddy watches as half way down, Seamus takes the gun and shoots the parrot. Seamus continues to plummet down and down until he hits the bottom and breaks every bone in his body.
Paddy shakes his head and says, "And I'm never trying dat parrotshooting either!"

Paddy is just getting over the shock of losing two friends when Sean Og appears. He's also been to the pet shop and is carrying a paper out of which he pulls a chicken. Sean Og then hurls himself off the cliff and disappears down and down until he hits on a rock and breaks his spine. Once more Paddy shakes his head. "Fook dat, lads. First dere was Gerry with his budgie jumping, den Seamus parrotshooting. and now Sean Og and his fook'n hengliding!"

-snip-
Hahaha, those are great.

I feel rather ill after reading this thread.

Two eskimoes get hungry, so they decide to go fishing. They build a canoe from some fallen trees nearby, some rods from the branches, and go out onto the lake. Naturally, it gets very cold, so they decide to light a fire. In obeyance of the laws of physics, the boat burns and the two esimoes drown. The moral of the story: You can't have your kayak and heat it too.

Those DAMM FILTHY Swedes!
Huh? :confused: I will have you know that I shower every day!

Two fish are swiming along, when suddenly they hit a great big wall. One turns to the other and says: "Dam!"

Huh? :confused: I will have you know that I shower every day!

I'm sorry, it's just my personal satire of Fred Phelps.

I'm sorry, it's just my personal satire of Fred Phelps.
Ah, he's funny. :p

Ah, he's funny. :p

Almost doesn't need spoofing :rolleyes:

A frog hops into a bank and then right up to the loan officer, a Ms Patricia Whack.
"Id like to get a loan of $125000.00 please" says the frog
Ms Whack asks "do you have any collaterol?"
The frog produces a small glass unicorn and places it upon her desk.
"I'm afraid that probably wont be enough, do you have any references?"
"Yes" sez the frog "My father is Mick Jagger"
"I see" sez the loan officer "Well I'm afraid I'll have to talk to the branch manager about your loan"

She takes the unicorn and enters the branch managers office.
"You won't believe this but there is a frog outside who claims his father is Mick Jagger, he wants a loan for a hundred and twenty five thousand dollars and all he has for collateral is THIS" she says placing the unicorn on his desk."What exactly IS that?"

the branch manager notes the unicorn and replies

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Wait for it.
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."Nic-nac Patti Whack, give the frog a loan! His old man's a Rolling Stone.

A frog hops into a bank and then right up to the loan officer, a Ms Patricia Whack.
"Id like to get a loan of $125000.00 please" says the frog
Ms Whack asks "do you have any collaterol?"
The frog produces a small glass unicorn and places it upon her desk.
"I'm afraid that probably wont be enough, do you have any references?"
"Yes" sez the frog "My father is Mick Jagger"
"I see" sez the loan officer "Well I'm afraid I'll have to talk to the branch manager about your loan"

She takes the unicorn and enters the branch managers office.
"You won't believe this but there is a frog outside who claims his father is Mick Jagger, he wants a loan for a hundred and twenty five thousand dollars and all he has for collateral is THIS" she says placing the unicorn on his desk."What exactly IS that?"

the branch manager notes the unicorn and replies

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Wait for it.
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."Nic-nac Patti Whack, give the frog a loan! His old man's a Rolling Stone.

Partly because I'm tired, and partly because that's kinda funny.... I'm actually laughing.... and I think I just swallowed my gum.

Partly because I'm tired, and partly because that's kinda funny.... I'm actually laughing.... and I think I just swallowed my gum.

As long as it isnt bubble gum you should be fine.

As long as it isnt bubble gum you should be fine.

Never hurt me in school

"Are You Chewing In My Class Young Lady?"

*Gulp. Swallow*

"No Sir"

Never hurt me in school

"Are You Chewing In My Class Young Lady?"

*Gulp. Swallow*

"No Sir"

Its not the digesting so much as it sounding like gunshots in the loo later.

Its not the digesting so much as it sounding like gunshots in the loo later.

ha!

:headbang:

when it comes to puns and wordplay... I can't believe I forgot about my fav...

Garden of Love
Benny Hill

Chorus
The sun and the rain fell from up above,
And landed on the earth below, in my garden of love.

Now there's a rose for the way my spirits rose when we met,
A forget-me-not to remind me to remember not to forget,
A pine tree for the way I pined over you,
And an ash for the day I ashed you to be true. And

[chorus]

Now there's a palm tree that we planted when we had our first date,
A turnip for the way you always used to turn up late,
Your mother and your cousin, Chris, they often used to come,
So in their honour I have raised a nice Chris-and-the-mum. And

[chorus]

Now there's a beet root for the day you said that you'd beet root to me,
A sweat pea for the sweet way you always smiled at me,
But you had friends who needed you, there was Ferdi, there was Liza,
So just for them I put down a load of Ferdi-Liza. And

[chorus]

But Gus the gardener's left now, and you went with him too,
The fungus there reminds me of the fun Gus is having with you.
Now the rockery's a mockery, with weeds it's overgrown,
The fuchsia's gone, I couldn' t face the fuchsia all alone.
And my tears fell like raindrops from the sky above,
And poisoned all the flowers in my garden of love.

Partly because I'm tired, and partly because that's kinda funny.... I'm actually laughing.... and I think I just swallowed my gum.

How'd you get it off your teeth?

Or did you mean you swallowed your pun?